


Beach Holiday

by Rae_Saxon



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: And a lot of sand, Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, off-screen sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22994029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae_Saxon/pseuds/Rae_Saxon
Summary: The Doctor gets lured into a day at the beach by the Master's fake SOS call and a lot of cuddling, building sand castles and stupid bickering happens. As it should, on a day at he beach.
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 229





	Beach Holiday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VaultOfMelkurMistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaultOfMelkurMistress/gifts).



Evil schemes to thwart rarely started like this. They did, once in a while, start off nice, but this one had a whole other energy, this felt.... peaceful?

The Doctor looked down at the SOS message on her psychic paper with a scrunch of her nose, then looked back up, and doubtfully around for any kind of danger. There were sea gulls flying around, the smell of the salty sea in the air and the sounds of waves all around her. Sand underneath her feet, making her fight the urge to simply kick off her boots and enjoy it between her toes.

Instead, she marched through it determinedly, trying to find the problem. She needed problems, right now, needed distraction, needed to not think about Gallifrey, about her whole race converted into Cybermen, about....

Oh, great.

 _Him_.

There he was, of course he was, alive and well, not even a little dust on his stupid purple coat. Who wore a coat on the beach, anyway?

Her own coat whirled around her naked calves in the wind and she shot it a glare, as if it was the coat's fault that it currently existed.

The Master was waving at her.

With a roll of her eyes, which she hoped was so intense he could see it even from the distance, she walked up to him, intentional slowly. She was going to face him on her own terms, today. She had enough, enough of him getting the better of her, enough of being always one step behind.

“What are you doing here?” she finally asked when she had gotten close enough for him to hear her over the crushing of the waves and the wind around them. “What do you want now?”

The Master looked confused, waiting for her to come to a stop closely in front of him, before turning around theatrically, looking down at the wide beach blanket spread out in the sand, the picnic basket placed on it, the little parasol throwing comfortable shade onto the spot.

He turned back, still not speaking, but pulling a grimace, as if to say “Well, what do you think?”

As a reply, the Doctor stemmed her hands into her hips.

“I'm supposed to believe that, am I? After everything you've done?”

The Master simply shrugged.

“What do you think I'm going to attempt with a basket full of food? Poison you to death? You don't have to eat. More sherbet fountains for me.”

“I don't want your bloody sherbet fountains,” she lied. “You _always_ have an underlying plan. Don't pretend I'm stupid. I know you.”

“And I know _you_ ,” the Master grinned, stretching his neck so his face was only millimetres away from the Doctor's. “And therefore I know, that you want my sherbet fountains very, very much.”

“You turned our entire race into Cybermen,” she spit back. “If you think you can make that okay with... with sweets...”

The Master laughed.

“Who said anything about making it okay? I don't think I can make it okay ever again. That was the _point_ , Doctor. This is not making anything okay. This is me, realising you need a holiday. And....” he sighed, “quite frankly, so do I.”

“What do you mean, that was the point?” she asked, her poisonous tone slightly slipping into curiosity.

He shrugged.

“I just needed to... to prove to me that I could do it. That there's no way back for me, anymore. No _hope_ , if you will.”

“You did it to prove to yourself that you could sink even lower?” the Doctor asked, visibly disgusted.

The Master rolled his eyes.

“To give up, Doctor. To just finally let myself give up.”

They stared at each other for a while, the Master calm, waiting, the Doctor searching for words, trying to process what he was saying.

Finally, she sighed.

“A holiday?”

A smirk spread on the Master's face.

“A time out. Total truce. To get that tiredness off your face, Doctor.”

He pointed at her nose, directly between her eyes and she could feel it as sudden as if he had summoned it. The exhaustion in her bones, lying heavy on her eyelids, tensing every muscle in her body, making her feel drained and so, so...  _ lost _ .

“Fine, but you behave. No killing. No TCE. And we don't talk about any of that.... stuff.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, then let them glide into his pockets carefully, turning them around in front of her eyes.

“No TCE,” he promised. “Just you and me and tons of snacks.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You're not planning on stabbing me with the parasol, are you?”

He snorted right into her face.

“I wasn't before you brought it up.”

“Aw, shut up.”

The sun was burning down on them, and with a swift move, she sat down onto the blanket, pulling off her coat. A relieved sigh escaped her as she felt the refreshing cool of the wind on her bare arms, and for a second, she closed her eyes, just pretending she could actually relax for once, no trouble right behind, nothing bothering her, bugging her, no one....

Something cool dropped down on the Doctor's arms and she flinched in shock, tearing open her eyes. The Master shook his head, looking slightly amused, in his hands a tube of sunscreen, which he was waving in front of her face reassuringly.

“Pure sunshine's not good for your skin, you know? You're already a pale type.”

He continued to dip his fingers into the crème, he had sprayed out on her arm, and rubbed it in with gentle strokes, pretending not to notice her glares and very, _very_ clearly suppressing a giggle.

“If you turn around, I can do the other arm,” he offered and for a second, she considered showing him _exactly_ what her other arm could do, but then she simply settled for a sigh, and, indeed, turned around, catching him by surprise for the first time that day.

His eyes widened, just for a second, before he gave her a shaky smile that was apparently meant to be cocky and began to apply the sunscreen.

Crazy, the Doctor thought, how soft these hands were. One could almost forget how much death and terror they had brought.

Almost.

He poured some more sunscreen into his open hands, rubbed them for a second, then squished both her cheeks, grinning at her broadly.

“Stahp that,” she brought out, and he laughed, letting his hand run over her forehead just once, placing the tip of his finger onto her nose, then announced that he was done and went to wash his hands clean in the sea, before taking off his own coat.

Typical, the Doctor thought, as she realised that she had white sunscreen stains all over her dark shirt.

“You should see yourself,” the Master laughed, as he let himself fall onto the blanket next to her. “You look like someone's taking you hostage here.”

“You sent me a fake SOS and then bribed me with sherbet fountain, which, by the way, I haven't seen anything of, yet.”

The Master laughed and pulled the basket towards him to fish out some wine, proper glasses (of _course_ , he just couldn't bring plastic cups like a normal person, couldn't he?), several packages of crisps, fruits and last but not least, a whole bag full of sherbet fountains.

The Doctor's eyes widened and she grabbed it, clutching it to her chest so protectively, a low laugh escaped him.

“See?” he whispered. “Told you I knew you.”

She let her hands fall slightly, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

“Course you do,” she finally admitted. “It's the only reason you keep on being able to play my weak spots.”

The Master shrugged.

“You have embarrassingly many, what can I say?”

With her mouth full of sherbet, the Doctor suddenly grinned at him broadly.

“And what does that say about you?” she asked after swallowing hard. “Since you always lose anyway?”

The Master gave her a sad little smile.

“That I have my own weak spot.”

They exchanged a glance, then the Doctor sighed heavily, looking out at the sea. With a playful smile, she jumped to her feet, holding out her hand towards him.

He raised his eyebrow.

“We're going swimming,” she announced and the Master added his second eyebrow, looking completely sceptical now.

“The sunscreen needs a few minutes to...”

“Oh come on,” she laughed. “Live a little, will you, Mr. control freak.”

“Well, believe me,” he replied, even as he grabbed her hand and let her drag him to his feet. “I'm not going to be the one whining about sunburns in the end.”

“Thank Rassilon for that, the other twenty-seven things you regularly whine about are more than enough, you know?”

He opened his mouth, looking enraged, and the Doctor decided to flee into the water with a giggle. The cool water felt like a relief after all this time spent in the hot sun, and she ran in until it reached her hips, feeling it soak into her trousers, play with the hem of her shirt, but she didn't mind. Instead, she threw herself backwards, let herself drift onto the water.

She could hear him come closer, the water around him announcing his presence before he did, splashing it into her face with a swift movement of his hand.

“Call me control freak again, why don't you.”

She laughed, elegantly getting back onto her feet.

“You say that as if it's completely far-fetched, _Master_.”

“You say that, as if you can actually speak under water, _Doctor_ ,” he replied and before she could even express her confusion, he had jumped at her and pulled her under water.

She started kicking for her life immediately, cold water filling her lungs at the unexpected attack and she tried desperately to reach back the surface.

When she had finally dived back up, the Master was simply standing there, water halfway up his body, expression completely dull. She gasped for breath, letting the warm air stream through her lungs in relieved little pants, when he finally, wordlessly, turned around and waded back to the beach.

She looked after him, frozen in place for a second, then closed her eyes, as if to brace herself, following him out.

“I was just joking around,” he said, tonelessly, and she could tell how numb with shock he was, how hard he was trying to lock his feelings away. She dried herself on a nearby towel, sitting down next to him. Sand was falling all over the blanket, sticking to her wet clothes and skin, but she barely paid it any attention.

“It's a bit difficult, joking like this, if nine out of ten times, it's not a joke but a serious attempt at my life.”

“I realise that,” the Master said, still not looking at her, eyes still pinned to the sea. “I just don't like it very much.”

“We didn't want to talk about it, remember...?” the Doctor replied, biting her lower lip as his dark eyes flinched towards her, suddenly filled with anger.

He switched so fast in this incarnation.

“We've gone too far, haven't we? We used to be able to do that. A truce in the middle of the battlefield.”

She shrugged, sand falling off her forehead as she wrinkled it. How the hell had she gotten sand stuck to her forehead?

“The stakes used to be lower, I think.”

“We used to be closer.”

“Well,” the Doctor replied with a sad smile. “It used to be easier, being close to you.”

“You say that as if you tried.”

“Okay, here's the deal,” the Doctor suggested, before feeding herself three grapes at the same time. “No more drowning jokes – Not sure why you of all people would think they're funny in the first place – and we'll try this thing for the rest of the day? Being close? Like we used to?”

The Master gave her a thoughtful glance.

“People in earth movies did that,” he finally explained and she laughed so hard, she almost spit one of the grapes out again.

“You watch too much TV,” she finally offered. “No one actually likes being held under water. Believe me.”

“Not hard to believe,” he mumbled, and to both of their surprises, she gave him a little peck to the cheek.

“I'll kill everyone who tries with you,” she promised and he raised an eyebrow at her.

“What?” she added. “To soon?”

“Nope,” the Master replied grumpily. “Totally over almost being drowned and having to bury the kid you murdered, after being convinced I was the one doing the murder. I just don't.... like you joking about killing people.”

“Really?” she asked. “That's new. Why's that?”

“Because that's me, Doctor. And I don't ever want you to become me.”

She shook her head softly, but bit back an answer, instead let her mind wander to the next best source of distraction she could come up with.

“Fine then, let's do something harmless.”

He gave her a look.

“Sandcastles,” she offered. “Together. Team work. Like the good old times.”

“Doctor,” he called after her, but she had already leaped off the blanket, leaving a huge puddle of wet sand behind. “Children build sand castles. We're not....”

But it was pointless to try and talk to her and with a heavy sigh, he settled down in the sand beneath her, sitting on his own dry towel to prevent the sand to stick to his trousers like it did to hers – She was now completely covered in it.

A tiny little laugh escaped him as he saw her completely enthralled in building two blocks of sand to something that might one day resemble a castle, tongue between her teeth in concentration, as if she was doing some heavy calculations.

“You're such an idiot,” he said, but his voice was so full of affection, she merely commented it with a cheeky little smile, before pointing at a little pile of sand before him.

“Get to work, will you? You're the actual artistic one of the two of us.”

And sure enough, after at least an hour of concentrated work – that mostly involved completely working over every blank block the Doctor created in her childlike excitement – there stood a huge castle in the sand, with battlements, windows and even a tiny little drawbridge made of sticks they had found nearby.

The Master, sometime during building, had.... immersed quite a lot into the task at hand.

“Okay, the trench is done, now all we need to do is fill it with flesh-eating piranhas from Horizon II and then the Doctor won't ever be able to ever storm our...”

He looked up, catching the Doctor's amused gaze.

“I meant... Uhm. Did I say Doctor? I meant. Uhm. Braxiatel.”

They started snorting at the exact same time, until, finally they broke out into open laughter, lasting for several minutes. They abandoned their castle for snacks and some wine, lying together on the blanket – The Master had not let her on it before showering off all the sand – as the sun on the sky slowly began to sink, diving them into glaringly beautiful red light.

“I'll never grow tired of pretty sunsets,” she admitted as she sipped on the wine. It was sweet and reminded her of Gallifrey. “I once spent a whole day watching sunsets, just went back in time and did it again and again, didn't get boring for a second.”

The Master gave her a little smile, his eyes flinching to her face far more often than the beautiful spectacle of lights on the sky – Not that she'd ever notice it, she never did. She had been blind to his admiration from the very first second they had known each other and nothing and no one had ever been able to make her realise.

Now however, she turned her head towards him, just for a second, just to see his reaction and her breath caught from the expression on his face as he looked at her.

She frowned, froze, her head facing his as sadness started spreading on her face.

“I don't want you to give up,” she said finally and the love-struck expression on the Master's face flickered a little.

“You can't say that now,” he replied, his tone almost pleading. “Not after what I've done, don't say that, Doctor.”

“I won't give up on you,” she promised and he closed his eyes, turning away, letting his head hang with a gasp for air.

“Don't. Why would you... why would you say that now. You have missed... so many opportunities to tell me that and you're saying it _now_?”

“Because you haven't given up, Master!” she called, shifting closer towards him, her arms on his shoulders, willing him to face her again. “We wouldn't be here here, if you had. We wouldn't be doing any of this.”

“That's not true, I have... I...”

“You've done horrible things,” The Doctor nodded. “I know. But if I can sit here with you, laughing and.... seeing... seeing _love_ on your face, then you're not lost yet. You're not. And I promise you... to love you for as long as you're not.”

“Not after though?” he asked, his voice a low grumble and she rolled her eyes.

“Gotta give you a bit incentive to keep trying, don't I?”

“Please,” he snorted. “Like this whole day wouldn't... wouldn't be enough.” He let his head hang again, and, instinctively, she raised her hand, letting her fingers run through the soft, shiny hair on the back of his head.

“It's crazy,” she smiled. “How someone looking this soft can be so cruel.”

“It's crazy,” he shot back, head jumping upwards. “How someone so intent in being _kind_ , can be so cold.”

“Guess we really found each other,” the Doctor gave back, trying not to show him how much his critique had hit home.

He smirked bitterly.

“Guess we really did.”

They looked at each other quietly for a while, their faces slowly sinking into darkness, but neither of them seemed to even notice.

“If I kiss you,” the Master finally asked, “will you accuse me of trying to suck your oxygen out of your lungs?”

The Doctor grinned.

“No. But chances are I'll get sand all over you. I think I accidentally ate some earlier.”

The Master shook his head with a chuckle.

“I can't believe I am in love with the most inelegant, idiotic creature in this universe.”

“You're still going to kiss me, though, aren't you?” she grinned back and with a roll of his eyes, the Master pulled her closer, a hand suddenly on the back of her head, guiding her towards him firmly, but gentle.

“Absolutely.”

But before his lips touched hers, she flinched.

He raised an eyebrow, stopping himself with a grit of his teeth.

“ _What_?” he asked and she gave him a a sheepish smile.

“Nothing, it's just... don't touch my cheeks. I think... I may have a sunburn.”

In all fairness, his smug “I told you so” look was one of the hottest he had and she almost didn't mind it too much, as he pulled her into a kiss, very intentionally touching her cheeks several times.

It was alright, honestly, just lying in the warm summer night, sand in places where it _definitely_ didn't belong, his hand in places where it _absolutely_ belonged, running traces over her bare skin, his lips leaving light kisses on her breasts every now and again, then her neck, then her lips, again and again, as if every time he stopped, he got the urge to do it all over again. His beard tickled lightly, causing only more friction and the Doctor sighed contently in the starlight.

At some point of the night, when he had covered them with her coat, one arm around her, pulling her as close as it was possible, while still denying the word “cuddling”, she had almost dozed off, had thought he was long asleep from how quiet he had gotten, he pointed up at the sky, at a random spot of light, and whispered, “That one.”

“To burn or to see?” she yawned, shifting closer to rest her head on his shoulder, absolutely refusing to keep up any sort of cuddle-denial.

He looked down at her with a nervous little glance.

“Seeing, I guess. Maybe? Not sure if I can do every star in the universe, but I might be able to just... see that one.”

“Been there,” the Doctor lied through her teeth. “You're gonna love it. They have...”

“Aw shut up. It's a random dot of light in the sky and you know it.”

He kissed her temple softly.

“Yeah,” the Doctor grinned. “But tell you what?”

“What?,” the Master sighed.

“It's a random dot of light in the sky we're gonna leave _sand_ on.”


End file.
